


The Purple Brick Road

by nataliaromanovar0gers



Series: The Purple Brick Road [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, WandaVision (TV)
Genre: F/F, Love Story, also angst, because that's the only way I know how to write
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-13
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-21 04:54:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30016431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nataliaromanovar0gers/pseuds/nataliaromanovar0gers
Summary: From tumblr, @vintagegoddess912 . Posting it here because I just remembered I have an account here. Feel free to comment or put some theories.
Relationships: Agatha Harkness/Reader, Agnes (WandaVision)/Reader
Series: The Purple Brick Road [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2208111
Comments: 2
Kudos: 32





	The Purple Brick Road

**Author's Note:**

> From tumblr, @vintagegoddess912 . Posting it here because I just remembered I have an account here. Feel free to comment or put some theories.

Agnes wakes up knowing what she has to do: prepare breakfast, fix herself, wake-up dear husband Ralph and help him get to work, tend the garden, clean the house, attend city council meetings, prepare the house for dinner with dear husband, and if she has time maybe talk to her neighbors.   
  
It's the routine and she is good at it. Sometimes she thinks, maybe too good at it but that notion is broken every time Ralph doesn't come down for breakfast or come home early for dinner. If she's being honest, she's not even sure he still comes home - she hasn't seen him since -  
  
 **Don't be silly, Agnes!**  
  
It's not unusual for her train of thought to be cut off by her own voice. It's like she's trying to fight off thinking, and she audibly laughs knowing that isn't possible. She's Agnes, it's natural to have a lot of thoughts running around her head; especially when she specializes in town gossip.  
  
It's noontime and Agnes is inside her house, looking outside the window. She can see her neighbors packing up their boxes and loading them in vans and trucks. It's a daily occurrence of someone leaving and throwing a glance in her house before driving away. She has this feeling that they don't want to look back but she just shrugged it off. Westview is nice, there's no reason to run away from it.  
  
\---  
Westview is a ghost town and that is putting it nicely.   
  
[Y/N] walks towards the Westview sign, grass growing wildly at its side. There are no signs of cars or even life in this place. She's not even sure that flies can live here. The road leading to the town is paved with trash and abandoned houses, some lights remain flickering. She doesn't know what it is but she's damn sure something happened here.  
  
"Home: it's where you make it," [y/n] reads aloud, noting the irony of how it looks more haunted than homely.   
  
[Y/N] enters the town with more curiosity than caution. All the houses look unattended as if they all left hastily. She looks to her left, some doors are left open while the others are tightly shut. She can see the various tire marks as if everyone in this town drove and gave their 100% percent to the gas pedal.   
  
**What happened here?**  
  
She continues walking to the town center, dark and dull. She may be behind the times but she's sure this is supposedly where most lights are on and people go. She almost stops her pace when she feels the pull in her gut get stronger.   
  
[Y/N] prepared herself for whatever it is on the other side of the gazebo. She took cautious steps only to be startled by a greeting -  
  
"Hiya, hon!" [y/n] immediately stiffens, "I'm Agnes."  
  
\---  
To say Agatha was surprised is an understatement.   
  
She hasn't seen this face since her Salem days. Is this part of Wanda's torture? Is it not enough to keep her trapped in a lifeless town with a non-existent husband? Must Wanda really bring hallucinations in her punishment?  
  
Agatha can see, like a person watching a film, how [y/n]'s face contorted a bit before replying to her character's greeting.   
  
"Hi, Agnes." You offered your hand and Agatha can feel her body extending her own. "I'm [Y/N]"  
  
It really is you, isn't it?  
  
Agatha can feel your hand against her own, corporeal, tangible, **real**. She could not help but feel hope in this dire situation. You're a witch. Her kind. You can break the spell. You can take the Agatha out of this boring with a dash of pent-up energy Agnes.   
  
"Say, darling," Agatha can hear Agnes starting up what most likely to be a conversation with double entendres, not that she doesn't enjoy it. "Are you our new neighbor because I've got a housewarming gift waiting for you?" Ok, she doesn't enjoy this. Flirty conversations are her thing. Agnes is all bark and no bite.  
  
You heartily laughed at the question but Agatha knows it's your way of trying to hide the confusion. She knows you enough to understand how you react on certain occasions.  
  
Dear darling [y/n]. Agatha's childhood friend. Rival. First Love.  
  
Agatha can feel herself roll her eyes. It's been 300+ years and love is a sentiment she grew out of. It doesn't matter who you were or are, as long as you can break the chaos spell in this body.   
  
You started to turn on your heel when Agatha felt her hands reaching out for you. With a tight grip on your arms and a pleading look, Agatha can hear her Agnes voice saying, "please stay."   
  
For once since all of this started, which seemed to be ages ago, Agatha and Agnes had their desires aligned.   
  
Make [y/n] stay.


End file.
